


Present and Future Tense

by eternaleponine



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Actor Lexa, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Conventions, F/F, Fanartist Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15576219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: This story was originally written for anUberficanthology that was published for Clexacon 2018.  I am posting it here because most people will probably never see that anthology, and I want my readers to see it.  I am posting it in (nearly) its original version, but have changed the names to those of the original characters because people are... *rolls eyes*





	Present and Future Tense

By midmorning, Clarke had to admit that maybe Raven had been right. 

Her day started with a pillow to the face launched by her roommate and accompanied by the announcement that Clarke needed to get up because they were leaving in half an hour, despite the fact that Clarke was sure she had not agreed to go anywhere. She'd expected to spend this weekend the same way she'd spent every weekend for the last several months: in her apartment, creating artwork that no one would ever see and feeling sorry for herself. 

"We're going to the con," Raven said. "You need to get dressed. Wear something nerdy." 

Clarke sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. "I thought you were going with—"

"Don't even say his name," Raven replied, her lip curling. "I bought the tickets, so I get to go with whoever I want, and I want to go with you. Now get up."

"It's not my thing," Clarke said, even though she knew it wouldn't fly. She tried again. "I don't want to drag you down."

"If you don't want to drag me down, don't," Raven said, as if it were that simple. "It's not going to kill you to leave the house and interact with a subsection of the human race. You might even decide you like it and consider rejoining."

Clarke had serious doubts.

Now she was here, and it wasn't as bad as she'd expected it to be. Seeing all the costumes and wandering the aisles of vendors was kind of cool, even if she didn't recognize half of the fandoms. She felt a pang as she wandered down Artists' Alley, but she tried not to let the feeling take root. She'd made her choice, and she had to believe that it was the right one, not just for herself but everyone else. 

Raven sidled up next to her and bumped Clarke with her shoulder. "I'm going to a panel," she said. "'Science or Science Fiction?' Seems like it might be pretty cool. Want to come?"

Clarke shook her head. "Have fun. Don't get yourself kicked out correcting the panelists if they science wrong."

Raven grinned. "Yeah, no promises on that one. I'll find you after."

"See you." Clarke kept wandering, smiling at people who smiled at her, trying to act as if she belonged here. Six months ago, she would have. Six months ago, she would have been right in the thick of things. 

Six months ago, she was a different person. 

"Hey!" someone said, and she turned to find a girl who looked to be her age, maybe a little younger, standing just a little too close for comfort. "I love your shirt," the girl said. "Infected319, right?"

Clarke's heart slammed against her ribcage, and she stumbled back half a step. It took her a second to realize that the girl was referring to the artist, not to her specifically, even though they were one and the same. 

"I have a different one," the girl said. "I didn't wear it though. After what happened on the show, and then with all the drama, I just..." She shrugged. 

"Yeah," Clarke said, forcing a smile, then glanced down at the watch she wore that no longer worked. This girl wouldn't know that. "Sorry, I have to go meet someone." She darted off before the girl could say anything else and rushed out of the exhibition hall and away from everyone. She crashed through the door of the nearest restroom, ducked into a stall and collapsed onto the seat, putting her head in her hands, her palms pressing into her eyes until she saw stars. 

Coming here was a mistake. At least wearing this shirt was. When Raven handed it to her, she should have given it right back and found something else. Sure, she was proud of the art she'd created, had gained a significant online following because of it, but when you were trying to disappear from fandom, going to a con as a walking billboard for yourself was probably a bad idea. 

She heard the door open and the sound of the sink turning on. She stayed where she was until it started to feel awkward, like she was creeping on this woman who didn't even know she was there. Still, she hesitated, listening for the sound of the door and then wondering if maybe somehow she'd missed it because she didn't hear anything else. She stood up, and the toilet automatically flushed as she pulled open the stall door.

"Oh!" The girl at the mirror turned around quickly. "I didn't realize—shit!"

"What?" Clarke asked. "What's wrong?"

"I dropped my contact," the girl said. 

"Shit," Clarke agreed and then set about looking for it because it was her fault that she'd dropped it in the first place. After a few seconds, she found it stuck to the counter and picked it up gingerly, extending her finger to transfer it to the girl's hand. "I hope you have lens solution."

"I do," the girl said, fumbling through her makeup case and pulling it out, her forehead furrowing as she concentrated on cleaning off the lens before quickly popping it into her eye and reaching for the other one. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Clarke said, feeling awkward just standing there watching her, but walking away at this point would be... rude? "Great costume, by the way," she added, trying to salvage the situation. 

"Costume?" The girl looked down at herself and turned to look at Clarke, her head cocked slightly to one side. It was only then that Clarke realized who was standing a few feet away.

At the same time, the girl seemed to take in Clarke's shirt, and her mouth twitched, although her expression stayed carefully neutral.

_Oh shit._

It wasn't a fellow fan in costume. This wasn't someone pretending to be Allie from _The Infected_. This was Allie, or more accurately, Alexandria Woods, who played Allie. Standing right in front of her, staring at her shirt with the fanart version of herself.

This was a disaster. 

How had she not known that she was one of the guests at the con? Why had Raven not warned her? 

But then the other girl's expression slid into a smile, her green eyes lighting up as her lips curved upward. "I guess the secret's out now," she said. "If it wasn't for all of the dirt and fake blood, I could wear my clothes on set, and no one would know the difference." 

"Do you ever get to be clean?" Clarke joked. 

Alexandria seemed to consider this for a moment. "I think I took a shower once back in season two," she said. 

"And you ended up covered in grease like two scenes later," Clarke pointed out. 

"I guess that's your answer then," she said. She held out her hand. "I'm Lexa, by the way. Alexandria, but no one calls me that."

_I know_ , Clarke thought. From the flush that rose in Lexa's cheeks, it seemed she had realized how ridiculous the introduction was. "Clarke," she said, taking her hand and shaking it. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Lexa said. "I like your shirt."

"Thanks," Clarke said, fighting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. "If I'd known I was going to meet you I probably would have chosen a different one."

"Why?" Lexa asked. Clarke opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She didn't have an answer that she thought Lexa would understand. Lexa smiled again, a gentle smile like she thought Clarke needed reassurance. Maybe she did, but Clarke didn't want to be that person, that awkward, tongue-tied fan. 

"I think it's amazing, the passion that people have, the creativity. I honestly had no idea that it would—could—be like that. I had no idea what I was getting into when I first got cast for the show. I don't think anyone did. It was just, 'Okay, I've got a job, the character is cool, the story looks pretty interesting, let's see where it goes.' And then the fans got hold of it, and it just took on this whole other life, this whole other dimension, and I was... blown away. You know?"

Clarke nodded. "Yeah. It can be pretty intense." _To say the least_ , she thought. 

Something flickered in Lexa's eyes, and she looked away, glancing at herself in the mirror and tucking back a stray strand of hair. Clarke knew that the polite thing to do would be to excuse herself, leave Lexa alone to finish getting ready, but then Lexa caught her eye in the mirror and the corner of her mouth quirked up.

"Is it just me or is there suddenly a giant elephant in the room?" she asked, obviously trying to break the tension that hung between them. 

"Why did the elephant paint its toenails red?" Clarke asked, wincing inwardly at the lameness of the joke, but it was the first thing that popped into her head. 

"I don't know," Lexa said. "Why?"

"So it could hide in the strawberry patch."

Lexa laughed, a soft, uncertain chuckle, and Clarke forced a smile in return. It didn't make things better, but what could they do or say? They both knew they were on opposite sides of an invisible but very real line. Even if Lexa wanted to say something about it, Clarke doubted she was allowed. Even though this conversation was strictly off the record, and even though she wasn't the kind of person who would post things all over the internet, Lexa didn't know that, didn't know her. She couldn't take that sort of chance. Lexa started to put things back into her makeup bag. Before Clarke could think of a polite way to cut and run, the door opened. 

"Lexa, it's time to go," someone said. "Panel's in ten."

She seemed to deflate a little, then pulled herself back up. It was like a mask slipped into place, a pleasantly neutral mask to face the world, and fandom. "I've gotta go," she said, "but maybe I'll see you there? Or later?"

"Maybe," Clarke said, but she doubted it. Their respective roles didn’t change after a few minutes of awkward conversation in which the silence had said far more than the words they'd exchanged. 

And seriously, how much could Lexa possibly want to see Clarke? 

But as Lexa reached for the bathroom door, which her handler was still holding open, she turned back and smiled again, a smile that sent a flurry of butterflies through Clarke's stomach. "I hope so," she said.

And then she was gone.

* * *

Clarke went to the panel for _The Infected_ , but sat near the back to have a clear route to the exit. She barely heard what the moderator asked the cast members. She tuned out everyone except Lexa. When they opened the session for fan questions, Clarke held her breath, afraid that Lexa might be put on the spot, forced to defend a decision that hadn't been hers to make or to find some way to dodge it. 

_Do you ever regret it?_

The question echoed through Clarke's head as she watched her sitting up there, looking completely at ease like she was born for this. 

_Do you ever wish you could just be Lexa again, and not Allie, not a symbol, a figurehead for fans to build a cause behind?_

_If you could go back and do it all over again, would you? ___

Impossible questions with equally impossible answers… 

But it gave Clarke an idea.

* * *

Raven seemed surprised when Clarke said she wanted to go back to the con with her the next day. "Socializing two days in a row?" Eyebrows raised and arms crossed, she'd looked Clarke up and down. "Who are you and what did you do with my friend?" She laughed, but Clarke wasn't sure she was joking. 

Clarke tucked the big cardboard envelope she carried carefully under her arm and checked the convention app for the schedule. She hadn't thought to check ahead of time whether Lexa was going to be there both days. Her stomach clenched as she scrolled through and didn't find her name. Finally, it popped up, and the rush of relief left her feeling a little shaky. 

"You okay?" Raven asked.

Clarke nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Fine. I just have to go see somebody about something."

Raven's eyebrows went up. "How specific," she said dryly. "You have fun with that."

"I will," Clarke said. She approached the booth to buy tickets for autographs from the guests, praying that they wouldn't be sold out. When she approached, the person manning the booth smiled and said she was in luck, there were still a few more, and wasn't the show awesome? Clarke nodded and thanked them when they handed her the ticket that would get her another chance to talk to Lexa, even if it was only for a minute or two, with someone watching over their shoulders the entire time. 

She tried to distract herself because the signing wasn't for hours yet, but she found it impossible to focus on anything, and eventually, she just found a corner to sit and sketch for a while, hoping that the familiar feeling of pencil on paper would soothe her frayed nerves. It was hard to capture anyone in detail because as soon as she started to sketch, the person who'd caught her eye disappeared into the crowd again.

After what felt like forever she got up and went to find the line, not wanting to risk being at the end of the queue and running out of time before she got to see Lexa. She tried to block out the chattering of the people around her, existing in her little bubble as the line crawled forward. After what felt like an eternity, she reached the front and approached the table holding the envelope in front of her like a shield.

Lexa had turned to say something to the man standing behind her, and when she turned back her brilliant green eyes went wide, the corners crinkling as she smiled and said, "We meet again.” 

Clarke held out the envelope. "This is for you," she said. 

"Thank you," Lexa said automatically as she pulled the paper out from inside the envelope. 

Clarke had been up most of the night creating the image, which showed Allie bound in chains she was attempting to break free of, as hands, some of them the infected, some not reached for her and tried to grab her and pull her down. 

"Oh," she said softly. "This is..." She looked up at Clarke, and for a second Clarke thought she saw the faintest shimmer of tears in her eyes. "You made this?" Clarke nodded. "It's amazing," she said. "I don't even know what to say."

"I'm glad you like it," Clarke said. 

"I love it," Lexa said. She looked down at it again, the tips of her fingers tracing the edge of the paper. 

The silence hung there between them as Lexa's focus stayed on the picture as if she was trying to memorize every detail. Clarke finally cleared her throat, and Lexa's head snapped up like she'd forgotten she wasn't alone. 

"I hope you have a good rest of the con," Clarke said. She turned to walk away to let the next person have their chance, but Lexa reached out, rising half out of her seat to catch Clarke's wrist.

Clarke looked down, and then back at Lexa, who immediately released her grip, her cheeks flooding with color. "I'm sorry," she said. "Did you want...?" She gestured vaguely at the pictures on the table next to her. 

"No," Clarke said. "I just wanted to give you the picture."

"Oh." Lexa sat back down. "You have a good rest of the con too." Her smile had faded completely, and she looked confused, or maybe disappointed. But why would she be disappointed?

Clarke turned again because now she was being motioned to move along by someone in a neon staff shirt. 

"Wait." Lexa's voice stopped her, made her turn and go back to the table as Lexa beckoned her closer. "Meet me after," she said. "Outside the green room area." Clarke opened her mouth, but before anything came out, Lexa added, "Please."

It really was the magic word. Clarke nodded, and then gave in to the person responsible for herding fans out of the signing area. 

She found the green room, the area where guests were allowed and fans were not, and stayed just far enough away so she wouldn't draw attention to herself from security. She didn't know why Lexa had asked her to meet here, and she was reasonably sure she was going to end up looking like an idiot, waiting for someone who was never going to show up, but she stayed anyway.

"Hey." 

She looked up from her sketchbook, and her heart thumped harder when she found herself locked in Lexa's gaze. "Hey." She tucked her pencil into the coil at the top, and stuffed the pad into her bag, pushing herself up to a standing position while subtly trying to adjust her clothing back into place.

They eyed each other for a long moment, Clarke waiting for an explanation as to why Lexa had asked her here, and Lexa just watching her, studying her as intently as she'd studied the picture. "Your shirt yesterday," she said. "That was yours, wasn't it? The art?"

Clarke nodded. 

"I looked it up last night," Lexa said. 

_Please tell me you didn't Google 'The Infected fanart,'_ Clarke thought. _Please tell me you didn't make that mistake._ But how else would she have found it? It wasn't like she'd taken a picture of the shirt that she could then use to reverse image search. She was suddenly gladder than ever that anything she'd been inspired to draw that would have rated an NSFW tag had remained safely in her sketchbook.

"I found the other stuff you've done, but I didn't see this one." Lexa held up the envelope with Clarke's art in it. 

"I just made that one last night," Clarke said. "For you."

"You did this all in one night?" Lexa shook her head. "I'm even more impressed."

"It's not a big deal," Clarke said. "It's pretty easy when you're inspired." She didn't say that it had been a while since she'd felt that kind of inspiration. 

"Lexa!" They both turned to look at the man calling to her. "It's time to go." 

Lexa grimaced, looking at Clarke like she was disappointed to cut their conversation short. She glanced back at the man who was watching them, not so patiently waiting, then blurted, "Come with me."

Clarke blinked. "What? Where?"

"Just to the airport," Lexa said. "I'll make sure you get a ride back, here or home or wherever you need to go."

Clarke started to shake her head and stopped herself. She didn't know what was happening here, why Lexa was inviting her along on her ride to the airport. It didn't make sense, but if she said no, she would regret it. Sometimes you only got one shot, and even if you didn't know what you were shooting at, you still needed to take it. "Let me just text my friend," she said, already typing out a message to Raven to let her know she was going to get a ride home on her own. 

In the car, they were quiet, side by side and not even looking at each other until they were on the highway. Lexa's eyes flicked to their driver before coming back to Clarke. "After I found your art, I looked you up," she said. 

_Oh._ "I'm sorry," Clarke said.

"Don't be," Lexa said. "I just..." She nudged the corner of the envelope at her feet. "This isn't just about Allie. Is it?" Clarke didn't answer. She didn't need to. Silence settled around them again, not tense but heavy. The elephant was back in the room. Minutes passed. "We're not so different, you and I," Lexa said.

Clarke looked at her, and now there was tension, like a rubber band that had been stretched as far as it could go and was trying to return to its original shape, to equilibrium. 

Was that even possible? Even if they were in some ways the same, weren't they like two magnets with the same polarity, pushing against insurmountable forces to try and find a way to meet in the middle?

_We're not magnets,_ Clarke thought. _We're people. We're just two girls._

The car stopped, and the rubber band snapped, sending them back to their neutral corners. "Sorry," the driver said. "Just some traffic. Shouldn't hold us up too much."

When the car started moving again, Lexa looked over at Clarke. "The things that people said to you, the way that they turned on you... it wasn't fair."

Clarke shrugged. _Didn't anyone ever tell you that life isn't fair?_ "People were hurt by what happened. They were angry. Maybe some people were looking for ways to misinterpret things, looking for reasons to lash out at someone or provoke a reaction. I was an easy target, and I could handle it." _Right up until I couldn't._

Right up until she walked away.

Lexa stared down at her hands. "Sometimes the things you want to say, the things you should say, and the things that you can say get all tangled up. Sometimes, no matter how much you don't want to, you have to speak from your head and not your heart." She looked over at Clarke as if seeking approval, or maybe absolution, but before Clarke could say anything they stopped again, and this time they were at the airport. "I'm sorry," Lexa whispered, and then she was out of the car, taking her bags from the trunk. Clarke looked down and saw the folder with her art in it still there and pushed open the door. "You almost forgot this," she said. 

Lexa looked at her, reaching out to take it, their fingers brushing in the process. "Thank you," she said. "I never would have forgiven myself."

"I would have found a way to get it to you," Clarke said. 

Lexa smiled. "I guess this is goodbye," she said. 

"Have a safe trip," Clarke said. 

"You too," Lexa said. "I mean—"

"I know what you mean," Clarke said. She slid back into the car for the ride home, turning to watch Lexa as she disappeared inside.

* * *

It was the middle of the night when an alert popped up on Clarke's phone, telling her she had a private message. She slid her finger across the screen without thinking and was surprised when Lexa's name popped up. It had been almost six weeks since the con, and although she sure as hell hadn't forgotten her, she'd done everything she could to put Lexa out of her mind. Whatever Lexa had been trying to tell her, whatever unspoken connection might have happened between them in the car on the way to the airport had passed. It wasn't ever going to happen again. 

Clarke read the words on the screen once, then again, and then a third time, convinced her eyes were playing tricks. "If I got you a ticket, would you come to see me?"

She typed her answer and clicked send before she could second-guess her decision. _Screw responsibility_ , she thought. "Yes."

A flurry of messages went back and forth between them. The next thing Clarke knew, she was getting on a plane. She propped her head against the cabin wall as if she might somehow calm down enough to doze off and make up for last night’s missed sleep. It was a lost cause, and she knew it, but she could pretend.

She was disappointed when she got into the car that had been sent to pick her up and found that Lexa wasn't there. "She's on set," the driver told her as if he could read her mind. "Night shoot. She should be back at the hotel when you get there."

"Thanks," Clarke said. She hugged her bag to her chest as they rode, her fingers clenched in the fabric. At the hotel, she was given a key to her room, which was empty when she arrived. Lexa wasn't there, and neither was any of her stuff. Of course, she wouldn't have invited Clarke to stay in her room. They barely knew each other. 

She tried to settle in but ended up pacing until her phone chimed, indicating she'd gotten a message. "Just finished. Headed to the hotel now, but it takes a little while. Hope you had a safe flight. Can't wait to see you."

"Me too," Clarke sent back. Her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since last night’s dinner except for pretzels and those spice cookies you can only find on airplanes. She picked up the room service menu and discovered it was a lot fancier than she expected. Trying not to cringe at the prices, she called down her order.

She answered the knock at the door twenty minutes later and was surprised when it was Lexa, not the food, standing outside. It looked like she'd tried to get the grime off her face, but it still clung to her hairline and around her nails. It made Clarke smile, and Lexa smiled back. Then they were in each other's arms without Clarke knowing who had reached for whom.

"I can't believe you came," Lexa whispered, her breath ghosting over Clarke's neck, sending a shiver down her spine that settled in her core. 

"I can't believe you invited me," Clarke replied. "You didn't really say why." It wasn't exactly a question, though she was hoping for an answer. 

Lexa stepped away from her, but her fingers stayed hooked around the back of Clarke's arms. "It's just been a rough couple of days," she said. "Stuff happening on the show mostly… the plot, not behind the scenes drama. Dredging things up that I thought I'd forgotten, or gotten past, or..." She shrugged. "I didn't want to be alone anymore."

"I'm sure you have friends who—" Clarke was interrupted by a second knock at the door, and Lexa turned to look, frowning slightly. "It's okay," Clarke reassured her. "I ordered breakfast." She opened the door, and they brought in two trays, setting them on the small table and leaving again. "I thought you might be hungry too."

"I am," Lexa said, lifting the lid from her plate. "Oh, I love crepes." 

"I know," Clarke said. "I mean, I read somewhere that you did. Do." Her forehead furrowed as she realized how that might sound. "Shit. Is that creepy?"

Lexa looked at her, her eyes alight. "Maybe a little crepe-y."

Clarke looked at her sidelong. She was trying not to laugh. "Did you just...?"

"What are you going to do about it?" Lexa challenged. 

The spark that had been kindled by Lexa's embrace ignited. Clarke faced her full on, and she didn't hesitate. She closed the space between them, one hand coming up to Lexa's face, the other sliding to her waist, and she kissed her. There was a fraction of a second where Lexa was still, startled, and then her lips parted against Clarke's, and it was soft and slow and sweet and everything that Clarke had tried not to let herself imagine. 

When they broke apart, neither of them released their hold on each other, so they were still belly-to-belly and hip-to-hip as they leaned back to look into each other's eyes. 

"I do have friends," Lexa said. "I wanted you."

"Past tense?"

"Want you," Lexa amended. 

"What are you going to do about it?" Clarke teased. 

Lexa's lips met hers again and long fingers tangled in Clarke's hair, and the entire world became only the two of them, just two girls and all the places their bodies touched, their ragged breaths mingling as they kissed.

"Breakfast is going to get cold," Lexa pointed out when the need for oxygen finally became greater than the need to be as close to each other as possible.

"Let it," Clarke said, brushing her nose against Lexa's before their lips met again. "I want you too. Present and future tense."


End file.
